


unstoppable force(s) vs. immovable object

by sunflower_J



Category: BnHA, mha, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Mitsuki's Bad Parenting, Bakusquad (My Hero Academia), I just want everybody to be HAPPY is that too much to ask, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentioned Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Mineta Minoru Goes Mysteriously Missing, Past Abuse, Supportive Bakusquad (My Hero Academia), The Bakusquad, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Yee Haw, basically bakugo learning how to be a better person, i don’t really know if I like Mitsuki or not but in this fic she’s Not Too Great, kiribaku, midoryia and bad koogie work things out and become friends, you know what that is? Growth.gif
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2020-10-06 16:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20510402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_J/pseuds/sunflower_J
Summary: Katsuki was afraid. He was trapped, chained to place, an immovable object.Lately, though, pieces had begun crumbling off him. An arm, laid lazily around his neck, a smile in his direction.Red eyes like his own, close enough to shatter his chains completely.And worse of all, his own guilt crept through his mind untethered, threatening to free him from his chains by melting him from the inside out.Would he ever be a good person?





	1. and maybe i’m like a star (if that means you’re one too)

**Author's Note:**

> OK SO this is my first mha fanfiction. I wrote the first half of this chapter at 1 AM.  
Also, the kiribaku does Not come in that much in the first chapter but it Will Be Here.  
:-)
> 
> side note DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO WRITE BAKUGO POV WHEN YOU PERSONALLY DON’T LIKE TO SWEAR???? impossible

Katsuki was awake. It was really, really cold, and he was not falling asleep easy.

He felt restless.

Throwing open the blinds, Katsuki peered out the window.

Amber lights shone in the dark, illuminating the thin layer of snow on the ground. The sky was indigo-black, and he saw a single star twinkling, the only one visible through the light pollution.

He groaned, running his hands down his face. Midnight said there would be a quiz tomorrow, which was not the reason he was worried, because of course he would do fine! He was _obviously_ the best at math in the class.

The problem was that Kirishima had only studied when Katsuki managed to drag him away from whatever he and the other idiots were doing, and Katsuki knew that if Kirishima failed, he would whine for weeks about it- something he was not looking forward to. 

He rolled his eyes, muttered a curse, and tugged a sweater over his head.

God, he was so tired of this. Sleep did not come easy to Katsuki; there was always that looming fear, which he despised, because he shouldn’t feel like that, ever. It felt like suffocating, something disgusting holding him hostage, a million chains cutting deep around his arms, sludge in his lungs. He was supposed to be immovable, unchanging. Lately there had been a lot changing, guilt creeping around the corners of his mind, killing him in a way deeper than the fear, a twisting knife, someone sinister in his head rubbing salt deeper into the wound.

But he, the immovable object, could only wince in place, frozen.

Katsuki scowled, shaking his head. It’s the thoughts that keep him up. His own brain. How much longer could he pretend it was the chill of the air?

He slipped on his waterproof winter boots and began the lonely walk down the empty hall. A light flickered, to the left, over a storage closet. Probably idiot Pikachu’s fault.

The empty halls reminded him of when he was a kid, creeping through the kitchen at night in an act of angry, quiet retaliation. He was always angry and loud in the day, and his mom would be angry and loud back, but at night Katsuki could pretend he was some assassin, or a spy on a mission, or the rakish guy the main character teams up with in a movie, always right, always winning.

He could pretend the bruises on his arms and cheek were from a calculated, meaningful mission. 

And his mission now was to see if any classmates were lurking nearby. Highly unlikely, as it was 3:25 AM, but you could never know.

Ducking back inside, he wrenched the window open and leapt out. The smallest explosion cushioned his landing, and he winced briefly at the loud noise it made, and also the cold, cold air biting at his face. 

Whatever.

Tiny flakes of snow landed in his hair. He strode across the grounds, looking for something- anything- to do. The cold reminded him of that day, the sports festival, Icy Hot’s stupid, impassive face only barely holding back emotion. Or maybe the bastard just didn’t know how to feel, after his craphole father did what he did.

A lesser man than Katsuki might have compared him and Half and Half- both powerful, young, abused.

The difference, he thought grimly, was that Todoroki was innocent.

The bastard had never done anything wrong in his life. 

Right now, Katsuki couldn’t close his eyes without thinking of All Might’s skeletal frame, or eleven-year-old Deku’s wobbling eyes after Katsuki shoved him into the garbage, or Kirishima’s hurt expression as Katsuki brushed him off again and swore in his face. 

And _god_, why should he change now? 

Nobody expected him to change. Nobody liked him. 

_That’s not true_, whispered a part of Katsuki’s brain that sounded suspiciously like Kirishima, _people like you._

_You just don’t deserve it_, came back his own. 

He must not be a good person if he didn’t even want to change. How the hell could he be?

Katsuki fell face-first into the snow, the shock running through his body like a match being struck. He rolled over, feeling numb. 

He stared up, night lights blinding the corner of the sky. He squinted in the air. His eyes were dry, and he felt like he couldn’t cry, even though the horrible, creeping feeling was growing more. 

There was the solo star again, twinkling, alone like him. 

But as he lay there, freezing, his eyes slowly grew more used to the sky, and he noticed another, and another, and another, glittering in the corners of the horizons, in between tree leaves, barely visible. Sometimes he would think it was a trick of the eye, when he saw them, because they were so small. 

He couldn’t even relate to the star, now. 

************************************

Izuku awoke at 3:41 AM. 

He groaned, rubbing his eyes, blinking at the alarm clock in hope that it would say something different. Seriously, maybe he should take melatonin or something. 

What had woken him up? He remembered a dream. Something about fireworks?

He closed his eyes again. And lay there. And continued to do so.

Nothing happened.

Izuku sat up, defeated. He was kind of thirsty. Might as well get water, seeing as his insomnia was keeping him up.

He pulled himself out of bed. His green hair sat in a ridiculous mess over his forehead. He walked into the hall, sucking in a breath when the cold tile floor hit his bare feet. 

He walked to the kitchen, slightly disoriented and slightly annoyed. His arms hurt from yesterday’s training, and sleep was, you know, when muscles healed. Wonderful.

The light was on. Izuku frowned. Of course someone was up; it was class 1-A. Probably Ashido-chan making ramen or Mineta-kun doing god knows what.

He padded in the kitchen to see... 

“Kacchan?” Izuku gaped. Bakugo‘s head whipped up. His hair was wet, and he was swaddled in a blanket. He was also cooking beef. At 3:40 in the morning.

“_Why_ are you up?!” He asked, the smell of the meat just now registering in his brain. “Are you _wet_?” 

Kacchan’s face turned slack. He looked back to his pan, pulling the blanket around himself tighter.

“Why are _you_ up?” He grumbled, grabbing a cutting board with onions and brushing them into the pan with a knife.

“I just woke up. I’m getting water.”

Bakugo grunted in response, and stirred his dish.

Izuku frowned. He peered at the boy, his face set with annoyance, eyes sleepy. But there was something else there.

“Are you okay?” He tested, shifting on his feet.

Kacchan scowled deeper. He didn’t respond. 

Izuku felt uneasy. He got his water, and paused before leaving, glancing at Bakugo. He was very pointedly pretending Izuku didn’t exist.

“Hey, do you want to talk about... anything?” He offered carefully, bracing for impact.

Kacchan turned to look at Izuku, glowering. “No. Go to sleep, Deku.”

There was a waver in his voice.

Holy crap, Kacchan was crying again. The last time it had happened, it was from anger, because of Izuku’s newly acquired quirk. 

He whipped his head back, desperately dragging a hand down his eyes.

Izuku walked forward, feeling like he was treading on eggshells. “Kacchan.” He whispered, hovering a hand over his shoulder.

Bakugo’s hands were shaking. “_Why_.”

Izuku pulled his hand back. “Why... what?” 

Kacchan turned to look at him, red eyes flaming. “Oh, I don’t know. Why are you _nice_ to me? Why the HELL do you care about me? Why do you,” -He punctuated every word with a tiny explosion- “Never. Get. Mad?!”

Bakugo’s chest heaved, and upon seeing Izuku’s watery expression, slumped. His head fell, and he ran his hands through his hair, yanking at his scalp.

“_Shit_\- Answer.” He hissed.

“I... I don’t-“ Izuku stumbled, hands again hovering, a breath away from comforting him. “Kacchan, you’re amazing.” He finished, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

He looked up, seething. “No. I’m not. Crap, Deku, I bullied you for years! Why don’t you HATE me?!”

And he was crying again, tears running down his face, fists gripping his blanket. 

Izuku blinked, shocked. “Kacchan, I can’t _hate_ you! You’re passionate, and- uh, determined, and competitive, and you’re-“

He searched for the right word. 

“Growing.”

Bakugo looked up, eyebrows raised. “How can you say that? I’m not. I haven’t changed, idiot!”

He threw the blanket violently on the ground and collapsed, wrapping his arms over his head.

“I don’t get it! I don’t get why you still freaking talk to me like I’m your _friend_! I don’t get why Round Face spars with me and why Tsu gives me her cookies at lunch and-“ He hiccuped, wiping his face quickly and shakily, “And _why_ Kaminari follows me around between classes, and why- why Sero fucking tries to make me laugh with his stupid knock knock jokes, and _why_ Raccoon Eyes gives me fashion advice-“ He cut himself off, voice tapering off into despair.

“And why Eijiro is always trying to act like we’re some sort of _team_-“ 

At that one he dug his nails into his neck, hysterical.

“I’m still just a terrible. Fucking. _Person_. How did I ever think I could be a hero?”

Izuku balked. “Katsuki!” He shrieked.

Bakugo’s eyes snapped open.

“You are not the same person you were. Back when you bullied me you acted like you were the king of the world. Look at you! You hate yourself! You don’t like being a bully- you haven’t been _really_ mean to me in months, and you don’t like being mean to your friends- yes, Kacchan, they are your friends! You _care_ about them, despite how you try to hide it behind nicknames and- and _insults_.“

Kacchan is staring at him, pale eyelashes sticking to each other, wet with tears.

Izuku squatted down to where he sat on the floor “You,” he whispered, poking Bakugo’s chest, “Are _not_ a bad person.”

Kacchan relaxed, and slumped down against the oven, shaking. Izuku couldn’t tell if it was because he was cold, or if it was because he was shocked.

Izuku hesitated, and Bakugo looked up at him, eyes wide. Izuku threw his caution to the wind and pulled him into a hug.

And, against all odds, Kacchan hugged him back. 

That was new. 

And he was crying, still, and Izuku realized he was too, but that was normal- he had always been a crybaby, and all of Kacchan’s crying set him off.

Bakugo smelled like caramel, which he supposed was a side effect of the whole nitroglycerin sweat thing. When Kacchan was little, bugs would crawl on him, ants and bees and butterflies.

Bakugo clung to him, gripping him a bit too tight. Izuku laughed wetly.

They pulled apart. “I don’t want to call you Deku anymore.” Kacchan said. Izuku blinked in surprise.

“Kacchan, it’s okay. Uraraka-chan calls me Deku too, and it’s my hero name. I don’t mind.” He said gently, hands still on Bakugo’s shoulders. 

Kacchan sat up straighter. “Can I call you Izuku?” He said, voice rasping.

Izuku blinked, fully surprised. “Yeah! I mean- if you want.” He grinned. “I’m still calling you Kacchan though.”

Bakugo groaned, but he smiled after. Smiled! It might have been the best day of his life. And it was three something in the morning. On brand, he thought.

Kacchan got up and opened to the spice cabinet, the spices which he bought himself.

Izuku grabbed his water, feeling light. He was halfway out of the kitchen, when-

“Izuku,” Kacchan called. “Wait.”

He stumbled, dashing back into the kitchen. “Yeah?”

Bakugo paused for a second. “You’re not useless. You never have been. I’m-“ he looked absolutely resolute, determined. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Izuku. You’re cool.”

Izuku almost laughed, because Kacchan just called him cool. What dimension was he living in? A huge smile spread across his face.

“Right back at you, Kacchan. I forgive you.”

And he was quite sure Kacchan had never looked so happy in his life.


	2. you’re a daydream (and i’m the one closing my eyes, darling)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sunflower_J stop making characters have emotional breakdowns every chapter challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing this: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dPdgx30w9sU

Katsuki woke up feeling strange.

He blinked a couple times before fully coming to, and then it hit him. 3 AM. The stars. Deku- _Izuku_-

Katsuki was mortified. He broke down in front of Izuku.

And Izuku... didn’t act like he was weak. He actually felt...

Better.

Izuku forgave him. Izuku thought he wasn’t a bad person. Izuku thought he was amazing. Izuku didn’t pity him.

Katsuki grit his teeth and clutched his pillow. Oh god. He had called Kirishima _Eijiro_ in _front of Izuku_. He was never going to talk to that broccoli bastard after midnight again.

He thought then of something that had happened a week ago.

_Katsuki walked to the vending machine and paused, surveying the options. He punched in the number of a yogurt, because he was not gonna eat the crap that Raccoon Eyes insisted were gifts from god. He had seen the package of the cinnamon rolls she bought, and no amount of flavor was worth four hundred calories in one sitting. _

_“Hey! Bakugo!!” _

_Katsuki didn’t turn around. It was Kirishima, who shoved his shoulder good-naturedly. _

_“Hey, Hair For Brains.” He replied, grabbing his yogurt and walking to sit. _

_Kirishima grinned and followed him to the table. Annoyingly, Ashido and Sero were both tailing Kirishima, and were likely to sit there too._

_ Whatever. _

_Where was Pikachu? He glanced around the cafeteria, and the yellow-haired idiot was pestering Earphone. Good. Let him bother someone else for once. _

_Kirishima sat next to him, and their legs were touching. _

_Katsuki violently ripped the lid of his yogurt off. _

_Ashido clapped her hands together. “Oh, Kirishima-kun, Bakugo-kun, I forgot to fill you in! Sero, Kaminari and I were planning on going to Fureai Zoo on the twenty-eighth. You coming?”_

_ Kirishima grinned, shark teeth glinting. “Oh man, sounds fun! Yeah, think I’m free. Bakugo?” _

_Katsuki was focusing all his energy on anything other than Kirishima’s arm brushing his. _

_“Uh, no thanks. I’d rather not waste a day wandering around in butt-cold weather while you idiots annoy animals. And me.” He snapped. _

_Ashido’s face fell. Katsuki felt an uncomfortable roll in his stomach. Kirishima shoved him, giving him a disapproving look. _

_“Why make a distinction?” Came a voice behind him. _

_Katsuki turned, seeing Kaminari holding his lunch plate. _

_Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “What?”_

_ “Between you and the animals, I mean.” He grinned, sliding in next to Sero._

_ Katsuki stood, hands burning, almost knocking over Sero’s drink. “You take that back! Bastard!”_

Katsuki thought about Ashido’s sullen expression and almost cried.

He only had a few more moments of lamenting before his door burst open. It was Kaminari. His yellow hair stuck up in every direction, like it had been electrocuted. Knowing him, that was entirely likely.

He was hastily dressed in the U.A. uniform, and his tie hung around his neck, unknotted. “Bakugo-kun! Listen, I know you hate when we just come in unannounced, and you’re probably going to kill me, but I’m freaking out.”

Katsuki blinked wearily. “Huh?”

Kaminari winced. “I didn’t remember we had the test today, and uh, I was kind of putting off reading the end of chapter seven, and I don’t think I can do it! I-“

“Hold on, you were _there_ when me and Kirishima-kun studied,” Katsuki growled, putting up his hand. “And you didn’t hear us talking about how the test was today?!”

“Um. No?”

Katsuki put his head in his hands. _God, this guy is a disaster._

“Get out. I’ll get dressed, then I’ll help you study.” He snapped, pulling himself from under the covers.

Kaminari looked shocked.

Katsuki glowered at him. “You deaf?” Katsuki said.

Kaminari grinned. “Sorry man, thanks!” He exited the room.

Katsuki sat, blinking. He had never offered to help Kaminari specifically, with his homework. Usually, the range of Katsuki’s grace was helping Kirishima, and sometimes Pikachu would tag along.

He felt a little weird inside, and remembered what Izuku had said.

_You care about them_, he had said. _Even though you hide it behind nicknames and insults. _

_They are your friends_.

Was it just Izuku’s ridiculous optimism, making him see things that weren’t there? Why were they Katsuki’s friends if he was so horrible to them?

Feeling cold, Katsuki hurried to dress himself. He walked out to the hallway leading to the common room, pausing at the end.

Kaminari was in tears, surrounded by Kirishima, Ashido, Sero, Jiro, and Yaoyorozu.

“You can do it!” Kirishima said, his determined smile blinding, fist clenched in the air. “There’s nothing manlier than perseverance in the face of doubt!”

Yaoyorozu thrust a colorful notepad in his face. “Here, use this- if you write down the terms as you read, you’re more likely to remember them. And you can color code them by importance!”

Kaminari had his arms wrapped around his legs. “I- I don’t think this is going to work. It’s just,” he sniffed loudly, wiping his nose. “You guys know, my mom’s been really sick lately, and my dad’s taking it really hard,” His voice cracked. “And he gets really quiet and angry whenever he gets my report cards and, I... don’t think I can handle another F.”

Katsuki’s knife twisted deeper.

Sero lay a hand on his shoulder encouragingly. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” Kaminari cried more, and Katsuki felt like an alien on earth. He had no idea what to do, or say- god. He was such a bad friend, he didn’t even know that Kaminari’s mom was _sick_.

“This wouldn’t be happening if I wasn’t so _stupid_.” Kaminari mumbled despairingly.

Kirishima gasped, and he was about to speak, but Katsuki beat him to the punch. Literally.

Katsuki stalked into the room, and everyone’s head turned to him. He slapped Kaminari, face full of anger. “Bastard! Don’t speak about yourself like that!”

The room went silent. Kaminari stared up at him, eyes shining.

“You’re not stupid, stupid! You’re a self deprecating coward!” Chest heaving, Katsuki sat on the floor and opened his notebook.

“How about we actually study, because I know you’re smarter than you think. Let’s start with what you know already, Pikachu. I brought the flash cards I made for Kirishima.” he grunted.

Nobody moved.

He looked around, confused.

“Bakugo.” Kaminari sniffed. “I love you, dude.”

Katsuki froze, eyes wide. He looked up at the group.

Yaoyorozu and Jiro looked shocked. Sero was grinning, and, Jesus Christ, Kirishima was smiling softly at him.

Katsuki swallowed. “I. Okay. Whatever.” He grumbled, too embarrassed to meet Kaminari’s eyes.

Was he supposed to say it back? He’s pretty sure he physically could not.

Kaminari laughed wetly. “So. Let’s start.”

Kirishima cheered. “Yay for Bakugo!”

************************************

Later that day, Katsuki lay in his bed, scrolling through his phone, exhausted. Kaminari seemed ecstatic, saying he remembered a lot more material than he thought he did, and kind of knew what he was doing.

And he said he _loved_ him. All Katsuki had done was point out what he was capable of.

Katsuki felt really warm. Maybe Izuku was right.

There was a knock on his door. “Hey, Bakugo! It’s me, Kirishima. Can I come in?”

Katsuki sat up, and the swarm of butterflies in his stomach roused.

He smoothed down his hair and then ran a hand through it. “Yeah.” He croaked.

The door opened. Kirishima’s everlasting grin was brighter than ever. He was wearing that stupid brain hurting shirt of his, the red one with the weird black lines.

Kirishima walked over and plopped on his bed. He laid his head down, looking at Katsuki. “So.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, heart beating like dripping rain. “So?”

“I bet you’ve noticed that my roots are coming in.”

He began, waving his hand over his scalp in a flourish. His roots were a stark black, overshadowing the unnatural red of his ridiculous hedgehog mane.

“Yeah, they look bad.” Katsuki made a face.

Kirishima rolls his eyes, undeterred. “I want you to help me dye my roots.”

Katsuki imagined his hands in Kirishima’s hair, Kirishima on his lap, Kirishima laughing and wiping a smear of dye off his cheek. He swallowed.

He was about to say _no_, _why would I, get Sero to do it_, anything to stop the strange, creeping feeling in his gut.

Then he remembers Ashido’s face when Katsuki told her he didn’t want to go to the zoo with her.

“As long as it’ll make you look less stupid.” He replies, but it comes out softer than he meant it.

Kirishima laughs, and Katsuki considers jumping out his window again.

“Okay, but just so you know, we have to bleach it first.” He said, playing with a chain clipped to his belt loop.

Katsuki is suddenly caught up in his face; sharp jaw, red eyes, flat nose.

Oh god.

Him. Having to touch Kirishima. Alone, for hours.

This was such a bad, _bad_ idea.

He watches Kirishima leave, perpetual smile never slipping his face, even when Katsuki’s goodbye is a scowl. He immediately feels guilty, because Kirishima is so _good_.

He’s got to get rid of this crush. And yes. He’s accepted it by now. Fine, he has a stupid freakin’ crush the size of All Might’s biceps, okay?

Whenever he gets too close Bakugo feels- weird, and angry at nothing, and strange, and _soft_, and his palms get all sweaty- not a good thing for someone who’s quirk is just blowing things up with sweat- and he hates it, hates hates hates how soft he feels, hates the way he can’t fucking concentrate anymore, hates it when his breath leaves his lips for no reason, no reason but a _stupid_ reason, a stupid goal, something that’s never, ever gonna happen-

He controls his breathing, eventually. He hates this. He shouldn’t feel like crying just because a stupid, _beautiful_ boy smiled at him, god-

He doesn’t deserve Kirishima- who is all enthusiasm and laughter and optimism, always looking on the bright side of things, always knowing what to say, even when situations get awkward, even when Katsuki is horrible to him, rude and insufferable. Especially back in those days when he held his quirk above him, when he thought it was what made him _better_, thought it allowed to be horrible to his friends, (if he can even call them that)- When his quirk was all he was- _an oh well, at least he’s good at something, too bad that amazing quirk comes along with_ _him_.

He can remember his mother calling his quirk the best thing about him at twelve, and remember her telling him that if his grades dropped he’d be worth nothing at thirteen, and remember his father’s useless, uncaring silence. He’d believed her, thought the hag was right, thought he was better, mightier than others.

And now he has no fucking idea how to be a good person.

Kirishima deserves someone like Sero, dependable and friendly, or stunning and smart like Yaoyorozu.

And why would Kirishima even like him? The idea of Kirishima liking him, wanting him, holding his hand on _purpose_ is so out of line with reality that his ears burn when he thinks about it. And he does think about it, so, so often, more frequently than he would ever admit, both in his head and out of it.

Because as much as the idea is ridiculous and shameful, it’s also intoxicating, and wonderful, and golden, and- a place in his head he can retreat to, and pretend, and dream, and wish, foolishly, because it would never, ever happen. Often, he finds himself daydreaming- and even using the word daydreaming reflects on how soft Kirishima makes him, because nobody has ever described Katsuki as anything close to a daydreamer- these terrible, lovely scenarios he comes up with, ones where Kirishima holds him tight and warm, and calls him _Katsuki_ and _love_, instead of _Bakugo_ and _dude_.

He wonders, then, if Kirishima would be angry if he knew the things Katsuki thought when Kirishima shone. And then he realizes that stupid Hair-For-Brains would probably just smile, and let him down easy, softly, and accept him and his twisted, out-of-place thoughts, and continue to follow him and talk to him, no matter how Katsuki’s heart falls out of his chest when he’s around.

It’s strange, how undone Kirishima can make him. How different Katsuki feels around him. In a way, Kirishima is like an unstoppable force; and now, Kirishima is headed straight for him, and all Katsuki can do is watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bakugo @ Kaminari: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2pdhFNrLizI
> 
> P.S. I had a cinnamon roll that was 400 calories on a road trip once. It tasted like chemicals and hubris


	3. and the sunbeams peek through the clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirishima plonked in front of where he sat. “Okay, this is coconut oil. You’re supposed to cover your hair in it before you bleach it.” He handed Katsuki the jar and grinned. 
> 
> He wrinkled up his nose. “Can’t you do this part?” He leaned his head to sniff the oil. It smelled like coconuts. He didn’t know what he had expected.
> 
> “I guess, but I don’t wanna miss a spot...” 
> 
> Kirishima turned around, pouting, clearly teasing. Katsuki’s stupid traitor piss-bitch heart clenched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! This is the most swear words I’ve ever written in one place. In real life, I am the Anti-Bakugo.

Ochako was minding her own business, painting her nails and watching anime.

It was an older anime called No. 6. It‘s exciting, fast-paced, and set in a post apocalyptic world. The art is driving her crazy in some scenes, though. Why did anime boys never have nipples? Who thought it was a good idea to draw a side view like a My Little Pony face? Why was Nezumi constantly off-model?

Ah, anime. It is what it is.

Her door flew open. She rolled her eyes and turned around. “YES, Deku-kun, I KNOW Sans is in Smash Bros. And YES, I got your texts, I’m just really invested in this-“

She stared. Bakugo stared back.

“Bakugo-kun? What are you doing here?”

Bakugo looked angry. Like, more than usual. “Round Face.” He wrinkled up his nose. “What’s that smell?”

She scoffed. “Nail polish. I don’t burst into your bedroom and insult the way it smells. Rude.”

Bakugo frowned. “Shut up.”

On the show, a wasp crawled out of a man’s neck, and she decided she should probably pause. She grinned and patted the bed, careful to not mess up the drying polish. Bakugo didn’t sit.

“Let’s spar.” He said, hands in his pockets. He looked strained.

Ochako blinked. “Sorry, Bakugo-kun, but I’m relaxing right now. Why don’t you get Kirishima-kun to spar with you?”

Bakugo’s neck turned an angry shade of red. Geez, what did Kirishima _do?_

He stormed out and slammed her door. She rolled her eyes and unpaused the show.

************************************

Katsuki was quiet.

He’s pretty sure if he talks too much something will slip out, lightning from the storm pressing against his ribcage.

“So. You ever bleached hair before?” Kirishima hummed, halfway skipping through the bathroom to grab a jar.

Katsuki’s eyes followed him. Kirishima’s hair was devoid of the regular hair gel, falling in soft waves around his shoulders.

He swallowed. “No.”

Kirishima turned. “‘Course not, you’re a natural beauty. Can you confirm that blondes do indeed have more fun?”

Katsuki snorted. “Sure.”

Kirishima plonked in front of where he sat. “Okay, this is coconut oil. You’re supposed to cover your hair in it before you bleach it.” He handed Katsuki the jar and grinned.

He wrinkled up his nose. “Can’t you do this part?” He leaned his head to sniff the oil. It smelled like coconuts. He didn’t know what he had expected.

“I guess, but I don’t wanna miss a spot...”

Kirishima turned around, pouting, clearly teasing. Katsuki’s stupid traitor piss-bitch heart clenched.

Katsuki considered telling him then, ridiculously. His eyes were glowing with a kind of happiness that Katsuki had been chasing after ever since the Kamino incident.

He realized he’d been staring for a beat too long, so he sighed and scooped some onto his hands. It was gross. He took a deep breath and plunged his fingers into Kirishima’s mane.

He tried really, really hard to not think about what he was doing, because it felt horribly intimate, working the oil into his scalp. Kirishima’s shoulders loosened, and he let out a happy sigh.

“Free massage! Man, nobody’d believe me if I told them you did this for me. You’re a real sweet guy, Bakugo-kun.”

Katsuki’s face flared red.

“Shut up. I know you would botch it on your own. Fry your hair off or some crap.” He hissed, pulling a little harder than necessary.

Kirishima laughed. Katsuki’s storm thundered.

“Okay, but then why do you care about my hair looking good? Checkmate!” He chirped, turning his head to wink.

Katsuki didn’t reply, face still hot. He concentrated on actually doing what he needed to do, coating all the strands carefully. When he was done, he washed his hands (yuck) and turned to see Kirishima holding several packages, muttering to himself. 

“Was it two parts bleach powder to one part developer? Or two parts developer to one part bleach?” He squinted at the back.

“Haven’t you done this a million times?” Katsuki quipped, leaning against the sink.

“Ashido-chan usually does the mixing part...” He mumbled.

Katsuki rolled his eyes and grabbed the box. “Says one part bleach, dumbass.”

Kirishima blinked. “Oh, okay.” He poured it in, along with shampoo and conditioner, and began to mix it. It smelled like bleach. Lovely.

Katsuki sat cross-legged in front of him, grabbing the silicone brush and dipping it in the slop. He lifted a strand from Kirishima’s bangs area and painted the black of his roots.

He tried not to notice Kirishima watching him, thoughtful smile on his face. God. This was gonna take a while.

“Why’s your hair so thick?” He grumbled.

“Oh no, Aizawa-sensei. I’m trying to avoid the League of Villains but my hair’s dummy thick and the size of it keeps alerting them.”

Katsuki snorted, and Kirishima started laughing so hard that he leaned his hands on Katsuki’s shoulders for balance.

Katsuki was dizzy. He blamed it on the smell.

Once he had finished coating the roots, he washed his hands again. Kirishima pulled on a plastic shower cap.

Kirishima said it would take about twenty minutes because his hair was dark.

And soon they were sat waiting on Kirishima’s bed. He kept chattering about skateboarding (why the sudden interest?) and spicy foods (was he hungry?) while Katsuki listened.

Kirishima abruptly stopped ranting about spicy noodles. “Bakugo-kun, you doing okay? You’re quiet.”

He leaned forwards a little to where Katsuki was lying against the wall. Too close. God, of course he was quiet. It was getting worse, he realized, as the movement made his heart thud.

Kirishima gasped and grabbed his hands.

“Uh.” Katsuki managed.

“Woah, where did you get these scars?” He whisper-shouted, turning them over carefully.

Katsuki felt lighting in his lungs.

Why the hell was he so gentle? Nobody’d ever touched him that... softly before.

He thought of his classmates, who’d always given him a wide berth, and if they had to touch him, did so like he was a dangerous animal- and his father, who’d handled him like a china plate, ginger and afraid- and his stupid middle school therapist that wrinkled up her stupid, ugly nose, and ushered him along like he was something particularly gross that her dumb cat dragged in.

And his mother. If he was a china plate like his father thought, he’d be shattered to pieces by now.

Katsuki felt like crying, idiotically, and his chest ached, and he longed. God, nobody’d ever treated him this warmly, this- this _lovingly_. He didn’t deserve this.

He deserved to be treated like a dangerous, awkward creature, because that’s what he was. He deserved the frowns, and the eye rolls, and the terrified looks.

Whatever he deserved, it wasn’t fuckin’ _Kirishima_.

“I- It’s from my quirk.” He choked.

Kirishima moved his thumbs around in little circles. “Wow! Your skin’s really thick. It must be like when you play guitar for a while. Jiro plays bass, did you know that? She says her fingertips are all tough now.”

Katsuki’s throat constricted. Kirishima seemed to forget about what he was doing, and didn’t let go, continuing thesoothing motions. Katsuki could almost hear his phantom chains crumbling, making him a little less stationary, with Kirishima being the unstoppable object he was.

He looked, and looked, and looked. Kirishima somehow resembled the sun even in a plastic shower cap and a threadbare band t-shirt.

Katsuki thought Kirishima was the prettiest boy he’d ever met. Strands of red hovered over his face, and the tiny scar over his eye made his face perfectly asymmetrical.

Ugh, what was he _doing_? Waxing poetic about some boy? He was so stupid, chasing after someone so clearly not for him, so clearly not even in the same _realm_ as him.

Why would the sun fall in love with a storm?

The timer beeped, and rescued Katsuki’s poor, melting heart.

“Oh! Gotta wash the bleach out. Stay here, we’re not done!” Kirishima chirped, letting go of his hands to go shower.

Katsuki sat there in silence for a moment, the phantom weight still there.

He shoved his face into a pillow. It smelled like Kirishima’s weird deodorant.

Katsuki gave the ceiling a middle finger.

************************************

They had started the dyeing. It was so, so much worse than Katsuki had imagined.

“Kirishima,” Katsuki said, strained. “Why did you take your shirt off?”

He blinked. “I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty...?”

Katsuki sighed, avoiding looking his chest by pointedly glaring at the red brush. “This’s a lotta work.”

Kirishima laughed, but than his expression flickered to a more worried one. “Hey man, it’s okay if you’re like, tired. I can get someone else to help, I was just-“

“You talk too much.” Katsuki murmured, placing his hand on his cheek to paint on another section.

Kirishima shut up.

Katsuki watched as Kirishima’s eyes moved over his face, searching. He suddenly felt worried about the new explosion of acne on his forehead.

Since when had Katsuki started caring about his appearance?

_Since you noticed he looks at you_, came a thought that reminded him of Round Face’s stupid wistful voice.

She’d probably think Katsuki’s horrible situation was equivalent to some dumb romantic story where all the characters have to do is share a bed to admit their stupid idiot feelings for each other.

He then had the terrible image of Kirishima’s arms around his chest and his face pressed to Katsuki’s neck and, oh god, he really, _really needed to stop thinking about that-_

“Thanks for this.” Kirishima whispered, sun beaming from his gentle smile, burning Katsuki’s skin.

Did it get warmer? It was warmer, right? Were his lips always this red, or was it just every other garish thing in this weird room, reflecting light?

Kirishima laughed nervously, and Katsuki realized that he had been leaning in just a bit. He jerked back, face blazing. Wait, shit, that was too obvious.

Kirishima was giving him a strange, prying look.

Fuck, kill him now.

Katsuki’s phone rang. He snapped his head to look at it. It was Sero. 

He rolled his eyes and tapped decline with his elbow.

He stood up and sat behind Kirishima. “Gonna do the back now.” He grunted. Kirishima’s shoulders were distractingly muscular, and there was nothing stopping his eyes from straying there now, nobody to call him out on it.

Great.

A phone rang again, but this time it was not Katsuki’s, but Kirishima’s.

Kirishima picked it up, putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

There was heavy breathing. Kirishima looked down at the caller ID.

“Um, Sero? Are you okay?”

Katsuki lowered the brush. Something felt off.

Click. Click. Click. Heels against metal.

“Sero? Are you safe?” Kirishima whispered, slightly frantic. 

Katsuki’s stomach dropped.

“_Come out, come out, wherever you are! Tape boy, you can’t hide forever!”_ Someone said. A feminine voice. Young and mocking.

Kirishima turned to Katsuki so fast he knocked over the dye basin.

“Toga.” He gasped.

************************************

Hanta’s heart pounded against his chest. He pressed himself further into the cracked drywall, which was decorated with a cartoon of a chibi eating noodles.

He clutched his phone. He had turned the volume down; Toga was too close. He simply held it out and hoped they got the point; if he was lucky, they would use the tracking deceive on his phone (U.A. issued) to find him.

Hanta shoved his phone into his pants, the big, baggy ones that Bakugo-kun called stupid and Ashido-chan called ugly, (he thought of her hero outfit; she’s one to talk.) He had pockets, but if they checked ‘em, his tracking device would be gone. He quietly taped the phone to his leg, pulled his pants back up, and crouched in wait.

All he wanted was some ramen, but apparently, so did Toga. He knew her power on its own wasn’t too powerful. It worked best when you weren’t expecting it, and he was definitely expecting it. But he knew when Toga was around, the other villains might be too, and he did not wanna be trapped inside a marble.

Toga appeared out of nowhere, all fangs and wild eyes.

“Ah!” Hanta squeaked.

He scrambled up and shot tape over her head, leaping off his overturned table to kick her in the face. She dodged, her form a blur, giggling like a schoolgirl. Well, uh, she was a schoolgirl.

He flew across the room, wincing at the impact of landing on the counter that a man cowered behind.

Toga grinned. “You’re kinda plain looking, tape boy. You’d look so much better with a cut or two. You could be a total cutie!”

Okay, ouch.

Wounded ego aside, Hanta wanted to make sure he didn’t have a wounded _anything else._

He grabbed a waving cat statue and hurled it at the girl. It smacked her clean on the nose.

Hanta darted forwards, hoping to tie her up, but she stood, undeterred.

“I can see why your friends trust you so much. That’s why I need your blood! Because they’ll never suspect you...” She chirped.

Hanta made a face and shot another piece of tape, hoping at least that it would cover her mouth.

************************************

“So you know where he is?” Ashido said, her dark eyes nervously flicking from Aizawa-sensei to Nezu.

Class 1-A had been notified and brought to a meeting room; the teachers stood around a table, all looking too tense to sit, shifting. After the phone call, Kirishima and Katsuki had ran to Aizawa, telling him as soon as possible.

Something terrible crawled up his throat, pinning him to the floor, leaning on the knife. What would’ve happened if Kirishima had been asleep, or training?

Would he have answered the phone?

“Yes. We’re tracking him to some cold-storage facility, supposedly. We know it could be a trap.” Aizawa said, holding up a U.A. tablet.

Katsuki surged forwards. “But you’re going after him _now_, right?”

Aizawa sighed.

“Yes. We’re enlisting the help of several other pros. For now, the whole situation is not to be told to anyone outside of this class.”

He made eye contact with Katsuki, gaze searing. “You are not to go after him.”

He looked around the class, eyes threateningly hovering over Izuku, Kirishima, Iida, Yaoyorozu, and Todoroki.

“I know you all must be eager to help your friend, but please leave it to us. The others and I have been talking, and we realized our top priority is to keep you safe. You are children. Sometimes we forget that, and that’s worth an apology. Don’t take that as something condescending, just something that’s true. We _will_ find Sero.”

The other teachers looked determined, and Katsuki frowned at the ground.

“I’m going, along with Cementoss and the other pros we’ve enlisted. During the time we are gone, you are to stay in your dorms. The rest will stay here with you, in case of a villain attack here.”

Kirishima gripped his wrist. “Bakugo, what if he calls again and it’s not him, but Toga _as_ him?”

Katsuki glanced at the other boy, his hair ridiculously half-dyed, smearing red over his ears and forehead.

Katsuki searched Kirishima’s face, his lips parted, showing his dagger-sharp teeth. He looked as worried as Katsuki felt, the lines on his forehead deep.

“Soy sauce face is smart. He probably has something up his sleeve.”

************************************

Hanta was getting tired of having something up his pants.

He probably should have taped the phone to a less abundant patch of leg hair, and the way Toga had thrown him on the ground, tied up, pressed the phone against the ground, twisting the tape a bit.

Also, his arm really hurt. And felt a little wet. He was probably bleeding.

Ow.

He couldn’t really see. The darkness was penetrable, though, and he could detect small lights glinting.

“Uh. Hello? I’m, pretty sore from lying here. Do you mind?” Hanta called, voice breaking a bit at the end. Darn it, he needed to work on his witty banter.

A light flickered on. Hanta winced, squeezing his eyes shut at the sudden brightness. Heels clicked on the concrete ground.

He heard Toga giggle. Hanta wrenched his eyes open.

She sat on a metal box, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

Hanta looked around. He was in some sort of windowless room, maybe underground? It was long, like a huge hallway. Small garage doors, painted red, shone offensively in the fluorescent lights.

A storage facility?

“So. You the only big bad here?” Hanta said, trying to sit up and failing. What was he tied to?

“Yeah. Only reason I took you is ‘cause Shigaraki told me I needed to get more blood. He’s kind of a meanie.”

Hanta’s mind raced. Toga was just _telling_ him this?

“So, are you going to let me go?”

Toga smiled, sending a stroke of fear down Hanta’s spine. “No, silly! I’ve been so bored running around all month gathering blood. I want someone to talk to! You’re way more cute than that grapey kid.”

Hanta froze. “You- you have Mineta?”

She shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know your names. What’s yours?”

Hanta looked around wildly, but didn’t see him. “Sero.”

Toga grinned, twirling a stray golden hair around her finger. She came closer, and Hanta frowned, shifting away as much as possible.

“Let me give you a makeover!” She whispered, joyfully pulling a silver knife out of her boot.

She pressed it to his throat.

Concrete melded around Toga, shooting up from the ground. She shrieked, flailing around, before her hands were surrounded by the floor. Hanta wheezed out a surprised breath, wincing as the knife fell. It almost cut his chest on the way down.

Aizawa dashed down the corridor towards them.

“Oh! Hey!” Hanta yelled, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

Cementoss dropped down through the ceiling, his powerful landing cracking the floor below him. He glanced at Toga, who was struggling to no avail against the rock.

“Nooooo!” She shouted, morosely. Aizawa knocked her out as gently as possible.

“Are you alright, Sero-san?” Cementoss asked, placing a grey hand on his shoulder, reaching his other hand to untie him.

Hanta examined his arm, blood soaking through his sleeve. “She got me, but I’m fine. I think. Also, she said she had Mineta?”

Aizawa blinked, turning from where he was standing, scanning the room. “Mineta’s missing? And nobody noticed?”

Hanta shrugged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why couldn’t I just leave it as angst and pining? Why did I have to add plot?
> 
> Bakugo should be a poet. He’s wonderful with metaphors. Or maybe just start an emo band. Actually, that would make a good story...
> 
> Also, no.6 is pretty good. Gay, anti-establishment, post-apocalyptic, anatomicaly incorrect, that anime has it all.


	4. pull me to the ground, love, and keep me there finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this shorter than usual? I can’t tell, but I liked where it ended off so yeehaw.
> 
> *present mic voice*
> 
> P-P-P-P-P-P-PIIIININGGGGGG!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold up parders, there’s a reference to SELF HARM in this chapter! Please note it is only a reference, and no actual self harm is decipted.

Katsuki stared at the ceiling.

Fucking insomnia again.

His eyes kept drifting to his phone, just in case, just in case. He gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles turning white.

Something heavy weighed on his chest, suffocating. He squeezed his eyes shut. Stop thinking, stop _thinking_, damnit, _stop_.

He sat up, his blankets suddenly suffocating, claustrophobic. He grit his teeth and stared at the wall. What was this? When would it stop? Why couldn’t he just sleep?

It was worse, somehow, than before, guilt piling onto his side, pressing the metal of the knife deeper. He clutched his knees to his chest, shaking his head. He kept doing this. Without Kirishima...

But was it really a result of his temperament that he’d ignored the call?

_No_, the kind voice was back again, _you were helping Kirishima dye his hair. Anyone would have ignored it._

He swallowed and shifted off of the bed. Still, the feeling persisted, empty and weighty, pulling his heart to the ground, but letting his mind float.

He walked to the wall, and pressed his forehead against it, the heat from his damp skin slipping away.

He was still there. Katsuki Bakugo. Horrible human being, general asshole, egocentric jerk.

He felt the first prickle of pain from his eyes, the kind of pain that only matters when you’re not breaking down.

Katsuki took a shaking breath and felt the familiar fog of uncaring, for himself, feeling less like a physical person every second. He felt the creeping pull, the need for _grounding_.

He remembered the first time it had happened, when he was thirteen and dissociating out of his mind. His mom had ripped him away from beating up a kid in a grade above him, the offender having stolen his bag as a joke.

She’d thrown him against a brick wall, but her words hurt more, shaking his skull harder than the impact.

Worthless, weak, selfish.

Villain.

Katsuki then, for perhaps not the first time, but more clearly than he had ever thought, felt hatred for himself. And it grew, chains around his neck and arms, more crushing than the bruises.

Then he’d been lying on his bed, the same fog pressing at the corners of his brain, his limbs shaking like he was freezing, sweating like he was burning, listening to his mother scream at his father, his quiet voice barely audible over hers.

He’d stood, the same feeling crawling up his throat and then back down his nose, becoming his every breath, black and toxic. He’d felt wide awake and in a dream at the same time, unreal.

Katsuki had stumbled to the bathroom, not bothering to flip the switch, and his frantic fingers closed around his razor.

Suddenly back in the present, Katsuki’s eyes flew open, shocked out of his remembrance by the click of his door- and this time it was not Kaminari who had startled him out of his own thoughts.

He stared, wide eyed, a deer in the headlights of the sun-bright figure of Kirishima.

He stood there, quiet, and the silence was suddenly silent again.

Katsuki blinked. His throat closed with a different heavy feeling, this one hot and full.

“Hey. You mind if I crash here tonight?” He asked. His voice was rough around the edges. He was gripping to the doorframe like a lifeline, odd for an unstoppable force like him.

That couldn’t be good. Did he mean what he seemed to mean? Did he want to sleep next to Katsuki?

That would be a disaster. Of course, he’d thought out the scenario before, mapped it out in his mind, maybe a bit wistfully, the whole concept so wonderful and far away, then. He’d had enough experience with Kirishima being dangerously close to him to know what might happen.

He felt his palms sweating again, face growing far too hot.

And there was Kirishima’s expectant, melancholy face. And Katsuki realized that he was worried that Katsuki would push him away, worried that he would snap and him and lash out. That he would think Kirishima was weird.

Katsuki shook his head, and gently pushed himself off the wall. “Don’t mind.” He grunted.

Kirishima smiled, in that sad way he did sometimes, the way that made Katsuki’s heart hurt.

He walked in, and Katsuki noticed he had not finished dying his hair, patches of yellow-blonde still visible beneath the red. Kirishima climbed into the bed, and he looked up at Katsuki, waiting.

Katsuki didn’t really know how to approach this without breaking down more.

So he let himself crumble, and threw aside the blankets to lie next to the boy.

The sweet silence was back. He was afraid to glance to the side, but he did anyway, the presence of him pulling on his eyes.

Red eyes met red.

Kirishima sighed. “I’m really worried.” He whispered, though there was no one else around.

He was so close that Katsuki could feel his breath. “I know.” He replied, feeling that despair again.

Sero was missing. He remembered the cold ache of metal around his mouth, and wondered if Sero was getting the same treatment.

Katsuki realized that he was crying, just a little bit. Kirishima was quicker than him, reaching out a tan hand to wipe the tears away.

Katsuki went rigid, blood freezing in his veins. Kirishima gave him an apologetic smile, drawing his hand back quickly, looking away.

Katsuki huffed and rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Kirishima’s torso.

_Ohgod_. What did he just do?

He felt his own body relax, a long-forgotten reflex, and the warmth of Kirishima registered in his brain, the boy warm and solid in his arms, and also he smelled _really good_, and oh NO, what did he DO.

_fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck holyshit this is really, really not good_, fuck-

He looked up, rather deliriously, and upon seeing Kirishima’s smile, thought thatif he melted holding Kirishima, it would be worth it to wipe the self deprecation off his face.

Kirishima returned the gesture, slipping his arms under Katsuki’s so that they were tangled up in each other, comfortable and soft.

Katsuki’s brain overheated. He swallowed, and tried to imagine he was anywhere else, but the warmth and knowledge that just beyond the borders of Katsuki’s averted eyes was Kirishima made his limbs feel like jelly.

“Goodnight.” Kirishima murmured, shifting a bit, each movement burning Katsuki’s skin.

Katsuki’s eyes were wide open, his heart pounding like a drum, surely he must hear it? _Surely_ _he must know_. He thought, eyes squeezing shut, trying to pretend he wasn’t pressed against Kirishima’s warm neck.

How was Kirishima not afraid of his hands? Disgusted by his sweat, however sweet it smelled? Didn’t he know Katsuki could catch him off guard, exploding before he could harden? Didn’t he know how Katsuki longed? Or was he just as dense as his skin?

How could he be so relaxed, laying in the arms of a trigger-happy bomb?

Kirishima actually fell asleep fairly quickly. He trusted Katsuki, which was baffling and strange, and foolish.

_Is it foolish?_ Said a voice, (this one sounded like Izuku) _You’re trying._

He felt the burn of contact slowly mellow into a comfortable warm presence, and it was enlightening how good it felt to be held. Katsuki tried to block out thedeodorant smell (cinnamon? An attempt at cinnamon, anyway) which he had associated with Kirishima so much that it simultaneously calmed him and made his stomach flip.

He felt grounded.

************************************

Katsuki awoke to frantic knocking on his door.

He blinked, and his chest felt warm and fuzzy, contentment settled in his bones.

His dreamy haze was forcibly blown away by the second round of aggressive banging. He groaned and shifted, confused. Who the hell dared to wake him up like this?

Katsuki’s eyes opened to a wide-eyed, red-faced Kirishima.

He let out a squeak and jerked backwards, nearly falling off the bed, instinctively grabbing Kirishima’s arms to keep himself up.

“_Bakugo-kun, wake up! Kirishima-kun is missing!!”_ Someone yelled from behind the door.

Katsuki stared at Kirishima. Kirishima stared back, before glancing to Katsuki’s vice grip on his biceps.

He let go, sitting up, running a hand through his hair, face on fire.

“Forgot you were here, fucker. Startled me.” He grunted.

Kirishima’s face went from awed to the stupidest grin he’d ever seen, before he burst out laughing. It was infectious, and Katsuki found himself snickering too.

_Bang bang bang. “Hello?”_ The voice came again. One of the girls.

“I’m fine, Jiro! I’m here.” Kirishima called, his voice laced with giggles.

_“Oh, thank god! Open the freaking door and get your asses out here! They found Sero!”_

Kirishima gasped, and turned to Bakugo. “Let’s go!”

Katsuki felt relief ballooning in his chest, and he stumbled out of the bed, Kirishima catching his eye and grinning.

He opened the door to Jiro and her raised eyebrow. Katsuki raised an eyebrow back, a challenge.

They hurried to the main room where Sero stood, currently in a hug from Raccoon Eyes.

“My turn,” Kirishima said, eyes sparkling, “Glad you’re safe, dude.” Ashido pulled away to let Kirishima smother Sero in a huge bear hug.

Sero laughed and gripped him back. Everyone was there, and so were his parents, who looked extremely tired and were talking in subdued tones to Nezu and All Might.

Katsuki walked to Sero, pausing to give him a once over. He looked fine, save for some gauze wrapped around his upper left arm.

“Sero-kun. If that crazy bitch comes after you again, I’ll kill her.” He crosses his arms, before glancing at the ground. “...Sorry I didn’t pick up the phone.”

A hush dawned over the class. He can feel Sero’s eyes on him.

Sero’s arm falls on his shoulder. “No sweat, man. And don’t worry about Toga, they got her. She’s going to Tartarus now.”

Katsuki nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat, and he turns his head to hide the wetness in his eyes. He’s not the only one crying- (not that he’s crying) Kaminari’s all sniffly, and Ashido’s eyelashes are dewy, and of course, Izuku’s dripping like a leaky faucet.

Izuku looked up, an encouraging smile lighting up his features, and he gaveKatsuki an honest-to-god thumbs up. Katsuki suddenly felt a swell of affection for the boy- and so he smiled back, the softer version of a smirk feeling strange on his lips.

************************************

Yagi leaned back in his chair. His bones felt tired. Which was probably not a good thing.

He sighed, remembering young Mineta’s parents, and their decision to pull him out of U.A.. Aizawa found him crying, stuffed into a storage room, tied to a shopping cart.

Mineta and his parents had come to the conclusion that he was unsafe in the school, and Mineta had agreed.

In Yagi’s opinion, it was for the best; a person like that did not deserve to be a pro hero.

The phone rang, worsening his headache. He picked it up. “Hello?”

_“Toshinori-san. It’s me.”_

Yagi blinked. “Nakamura-san.” Kotoe Nakamura was the head of Tartarus. “Is everything going all right?”

_“Toga isn’t... Toga._”

Yagi’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

_“I mean, we did some DNA testing. She’s a _clone_.”_

Yagi froze.

_“Do you know what that means_?” She asked, worry slipping past her professional masquerade.

“It means...”

He took a deep breath.

“It means that Twice has been busy, and that Toga is still at large, probably with young Sero-san’s blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bakugo when Kirishima walked into his room: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xpr1Ae-_Of8
> 
> Am I going to mention Mineta again? No, because literally nobody cares that he dropped out. Yes, Shinsou replaces him.
> 
> (I don’t have the heart to kill him (for his parents’ sake) but I do have the heart to kick him around a bit and throw him to the curb ty very much)


	5. i can’t wait any longer, no, not this time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kirishima-kun, are you kidding me? Do you not realize that going after Bakugo alone is the literally dumbest idea ever?” He said, throwing up his hands to illustrate the ridiculousness of it all.
> 
> Kirishima turned to him. “I’m not going to stand by like I did last time. I have to!”
> 
> Hanta studied his form- clad in jackets and jeans, hands balled in fists. 
> 
> “Kirishima-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did NOT review this or edit this so be prepared to watch a circus short of a clown.
> 
> There might be some things that should be italic that aren’t and things that aren’t centered because the word box where u enter in the fic is really messing up every time I do ANYTHING. 
> 
> Sorry it’s been such a long time... you know how it is. Tfw you wait almost a decade to post ur new chap :/
> 
> Also there is some tododeku... I didn’t tag it because it is so minor and only briefly suggested but ya.

Katsuki walked to his room, feeling tired and raw, but in a good way, like he could finally rest.

He pushed his door open and walked to collapse on his bed, and the springs squeaked in protest. He didn’t quite know how to feel, or know how he was supposed to feel.

Someone knocked on his door. “Hey man, it’s me. Can I come in?”

Sero.

Katsuki ground his teeth a little, ignoring the remnants of guilt.

“Okay.” He grunted, rubbing his arms.

Sero opened the door. He was wearing a flowing burgundy shirt with some kind of Indian pattern on it, beige and blue lines drifting into each other.

He closed the door behind him. Katsuki looked up with raised eyebrows.

“What?” He asked, analyzing Sero’s Soy Sauce face, reading his expression. He looked like he was holding something back from the get-go, before he even said a thing.

“Something happen while you were kidnapped?” Katsuki questioned.

Sero walked closer, and sat on the floor. “Actually, I wanted to ask your advice about something.” He said, voice level.

Katsuki frowned, jaw tightening. He had no idea what Sero was going to ask him, no idea why Katsuki would be the go-to for advice.

Katsuki turned to face him, where he was crossed-legged on the ground. Sero was smiling, and something felt off about it- then he leaned up, and Katsuki felt a bit of a chill down his spine.

“You’re close with Deku-chan, right?” He breathed.

Katsuki shot up in surprise. “The fuck? Chan?” He squinted at Sero. “You fucking with me?”

Sero giggled. Katsuki stared in disbelief. Did the bitch drug him?

“You didn’t answer my question!” He said, standing from where he was, facing Katsuki, a strange glint in his eye.

Katsuki blinked.

Sero shrugged. “Maybe I’ll ask you later. I’m gonna have all the time in the world, anyway”

And then he shot forward and shoved something over Katsuki’s face. Katsuki thrashed away, but whatever was over his nose and mouth smelled strange and poisonous, and his head hurt immediately.

He panicked.

Sero’s arm pinning his hands to the bed felt like the cuffs, the fumes like Midnight’s perfume, and he couldn’t breathe, like muck was sinking into his nostrils.

It was crippling, and fear made his limbs freeze, his brain stall, and he forgot he was fucking Bakugo Katsuki, the fucking strongest fighter in class 1-A.

Oh shit, this wasn’t Sero, was it. It was Toga. How? He stared, shaking, into Toga’s eyes, which were Sero’s plain black ones.

His vision blurred and he blacked out.

************************************

Hanta laid upside down to look at the screen. “I’m picking Yoshi. Nobody pick him before me, I just got kidnapped.”

Ashido snorted. “That better not be a guilt card you play forever, Sero-kun. Besides, nobody wants Yoshi except for you. Yoshi is boring. No offense.”

Hanta gasped. On his left, Kirishima was mock offended. “Excuse me? Yoshi is a dinosaur. How is that boring to you?”

Ashido lowered her voice several pitches. “Dude, Yoshi’s so _manly_. Like, bro, Yoshi’s a dinosaur, and everyone knows dinosaurs are a _boy_ thing, so dinosaurs are like, sooo manly.”

She looked thoughtful for a second.

“Dude.” She added.

“Shut up, I don’t talk like that.” Kirishima whined. Ashido laughed.

“I’m picking Peach because she’s hot.” Kaminari said, shoving his hand into a bowl of popcorn.

“The feminist in me wants to kill you right now, but the lesbian in me agrees with you.” Jiro quipped from where she perched on Hanta’s hammock.

Hanta froze a little, nervously glancing to Kirishima. He saw Kirishima’s head whip to her, his eyes wide.

Jiro had come out to him, Kaminari, and Ashido. She had told them she was iffy about telling Kirishima, because his energy was very, very similar to that of a Straight Gym Enthusiast.

Kirishima’s face broke out into a grin, shy but impossible to hide. He noticed Hanta’s eyes on him and chuckled sheepishly.

That was unexpected.

“Hey, where’s Bakugo-kun? He usually doesn’t miss Mario Kart ‘cause he’s so competitive.” Ashido asked, her player selector landing on Dry Bones.

“Oh, he said he was tired and wanted to sleep.” Kirishima answered.

The intercom cracked to life in the halls, loud enough to be heard from inside Hanta’s room. It made him jump.

_“All students, please report to the common room. There was a complication of today’s incident.”_

Hanta groaned. “Don’t tell me Toga escaped.”

“No way, man. They probably just want to brief us or something. Maybe Toga ratted the League out.” Ashido pondered. She sighed and stood. “Let’s go.”

They walked to the common room. All Might stood, along with rest of the staff, and... Mei Hatsume?

Hanta glanced around. Murmuring echoed through the room as the last of the students streamed in.

“Please, nobody leave this room.” Aizawa said. His glasses were on. That couldn’t be good.

”I’m sure you’re all tired, so I’ll get right to the point.” All Might began, nervously adjusting his tie. “The Toga we arrested was a clone, created by the villain Twice.“

Hanta froze. That wasn’t good at all.

“No way!” Ojiro gasped.

“What if Sero-kun’s not himself?” He heard Hagakure whisper. Hanta winced.

“In order to make sure everyone is not Toga, young Hatsume-san prepared a quick-synthesizing DNA test, which can, uh...” All Might glanced at her.

Hatsume’s strange eyes sparkled. “My baby here, the DNA Reader Deluxe, can synthesize each of your DNA samples, (which should be provided in hair or skin), and detect different genes and such. My plan is to test the DNA, then see if you have a gene that you shouldn’t have that Toga does. Just so I don’t have to adjust the Reader every time, I’ll set it to detect a gene or something that a lot of people here have that Toga doesn’t! So, in this instance, I’m choosing the boys to be tested on their chromosomes. And for the girls? Guess!”

Class 1-A stared back at her. Hatsume huffed. “Tough crowd. Eye color! No girl in this room has orange eyes. Besides you, Ashido-chan, but it’s very easy to test you. I can just look for the skin color gene.”

She grinned. “The school bought it from me. Not the rights, of course. I patented this darling last year.”

“Young Sero-san, you go first.” All Might instructed.

Sero plucked a strand. Hatsume excitedly placed the hair into the Reader, an odd-looking white box.

She closed a tiny compartment and pressed a few buttons. The class waited with baited breath as the box whirred for a few minutes.

A ding rang out. Hatsume squealed and bounced to the display screen. “It’s a boy!”

Ashido leapt over to him. “I thought so. I would have noticed, if he wasn’t him you know!” She hooked a arm over Hanta’s shoulder. Kaminari clapped his back. Hanta grinned. “Thanks, guys.” He was very glad to have friends like them.

Hatsume waved Sato over and they waited. Although there was a lot of the class who didn’t get their blood taken as far as everyone knew, there was always the chance Toga had somehow kidnapped someone and they wouldn’t be aware.

The wait wasn’t long, per hair, but it got a little boring. Kaminari pulled his DS out, so Hanta, Ashido, Kirishima, and Jiro gathered around him.

Iida went over the emergency evacuation plan as Todoroki pretended to listen. Uraraka, Tsu, and Yaoyorozu started playing cards, and Midoryia looked unnaturally pale and kept muttering to himself. The rest of the class busied themselves with chatting.

Kirishima squinted. “Hey wait a minute! Bakugo-kun’s not here.”

The class went silent, minus the sound of Mario falling of a cliff.

Aizawa’s face hardened. “I’ll go look.”

He went down the hall. Kirishima had an odd look to him. “He’s probably asleep.” He said softly, more of a reassurance to himself more than anything.

Hatsume gasped, and she jumped for joy a little. “Midoryia, your chromosomes don’t match! We found her!”

Midoryia’s face crumpled.

Everyone stood, readying. The teachers surrounded him in a circle.

Midoryia looked like he was going to cry. And then he started crying. “Wait a minute, it’s not what it seems like!” He exclaimed.

Todoroki rushed to him.

“Stand back, kid!” Ectoplasm ordered, holding out an arm. Todoroki ducked underneath it, ignoring the cacophony of the teacher’s warnings.

“You don’t understand.” Todoroki spoke cooly through gritted teeth. He shared a look with Midoryia, who looked down, sucking in a deep breath, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“Hatsume-kun, can you test for eye color, please?” Todoroki asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Coming right up...”

The air was tense as she tapped on an attached keyboard. Hanta watched Midoryia(?) wrap his arms around himself.

She paused. “Um. Eye test is a negative on orange. Says here they’re green.”

“How is that possible? Is your machine working right?” Midnight asked, frowning.

Hatsume shook her head and tapped her chin. “Normally, I would say I messed up- but I’ve re-worked this machine so many times, I can’t see what the problem could be.” She turned to Midoryia. “What’s going on?”

Midoryia opened his mouth. And then closed it. And then he took another deep breath.

“I’m transgender.”

“Oh!” Someone exclaimed. The staff looked between themselves.

Hanta had heard the term transgender before, but only in passing on the internet. He didn’t really know what it truly meant. Did it mean a boy with girl chromosomes? No, that couldn’t be right.

“Ah. I’m sorry, young Midoryia-san. Please continue.” All Might said, sheepishly patting Midoryia on the shoulder.

Midoryia responded by crying a lot more. Jiro hugged him and said something to him that Hanta couldn’t hear. Huh.

Things calmed down after that, and as they waited, as more and more tested negative, Hanta felt the stiffness slip from his shoulders. Maybe they had nothing to worry about.

As if on cue, Aizawa barreled into the room.

“We have a problem.”

************************************

Katsuki’s eyes flew open.

He was in the dark. Panic rose to his throat. He was definitely gagged. Katsuki tried to move.

Fear wormed its way down into his lungs. He couldn’t breathe.

He tried to think, but the whole feeling of it was too reminiscent, too similar to the sludge, the festival- he could almost hear the crowd roaring in his ears as the metal rubbed against his wrists, and the soft lights of the villain’s bar seemed imprinted on the inside of his eyelids.

Katsuki made a strangled noise and tugged on his restraints. He was too dizzy to make out whether or not he was blindfolded, or if it was just dark.

He could hear talking, but it was muffled. His leg stung in a sudden pain he hadn’t felt before.

Katsuki was spiraling, and was only briefly aware of the fact, like his rational thoughts were behind a fuzzy wall of fog.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

************************************

“No, no no no no... this can’t be happening again!” Kirishima said, tugging on his hair. “What if they-“

“Calm down, Kirishima-kun! It’s gonna be okay. They’re gonna find him.” Mina said, her arms on his shoulders.

Aizawa had said he saw Bakugo’s window wide open, the cold air filling the room. He had jumped out and seen Toga’s figure retreating, as Sero. He had chased them, but Kurogiri intervened, and they disappeared.

“But this time we don’t have a tracker, Ashido-chan!” He said, hysterical.

“We need better security, for real. At this point, we’ll be running after kidnapped students every day.” Tokoyami remarked.

Mina watched as Kirishima put his head in his folded legs. She frowned andsat next to him. Kirishima had become undoubtedly the person most attached to Bakugo out of all of the squad; they spent the most time together, and Bakugo blew things up less often when he was around.

Mina had disliked Bakugo a lot at first; rude, angry, temperamental. He didn’t seem to care about anybody’s feelings, unless they felt that he wasn’t the most powerful person in 1-A. But she could see him changing. The more time he spent with the squad, the more he seemed to soften; he had become nice, in a way... in his own, angry way. She had become rather fond of him. 

Now he had been kidnapped again. There was no way that couldn’t do bad things to someone’s mental health. She rubbed Kirishima’s back and wondered if U.A. offered free therapy. 

She glanced over at Kaminari. He looked ready to cry, and Hanta was frozen in place, staring at his hands. 

Kirishima said something so quietly that Mina didn’t understand him.

“What?” She asked.

He lifted his head. “Thank you. I’m going to sleep.” 

And he left the room. Mina couldn’t help but be worried for him. 

************************************ 

Izuku laid in his bed, mind going every possible way. 

What did they want with Kacchan? Why did they take him again? Surely they understood that he would never join them, after what happened the first time.

Why? 

They obviously would take some blood from him, for Toga. They could torture him, certainly, and maybe demand a ransom. 

He shuddered. The ransom could be anything. Money, power. Information. 

Izuku felt sick. 

He thought of how he was outed, and Jiro’s words- “I’m here if you need to talk. We accept you.” He felt incredibly grateful to her and Todoroki. 

He had come out to Todoroki before even Uraraka, or Ida, because of how much Todoroki had shared with him about his family... it was easier, somehow. 

_Izuku’s heart was in his stomach. “Um, can I tell you something, Todoroki-kun?” _

_Todoroki looked like he didn’t quite know what to do; he had sensed the vulnerability in Izuku’s voice. His face was a little red from the wind. He nodded, his peppermint bangs falling over his eyes. _

_They were sitting on the roof. Izuku had been training softening his jumps from large heights, and Todoroki had come to eat his lunch._

_“But first you need to promise not to tell anyone.” He blurted._

_Todoroki blinked, already puzzled. “I promise, Midoryia-kun.” _

_Izuku took a deep breath. “I’m transgender.”_

_Todoroki remained emotionless in his expression, but his mismatching eyes carried across his confusion. “Ah...?” _

_Izuku didn’t realize what a wave of emotion he had been holding back until Todoroki broke the dam with his voice. He wiped the tears away from where they were welling up. _

_“I don’t know what that means.” Todoroki admitted, bluntly so. _

_Izuku couldn’t stop crying. He turned his face away from his friend, embarrassed. _

_“Midoryia-kun.” Todoroki said, a little desperately. “Please don’t cry.” _

_Izuku took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to speak again. “It-it means, that, that- I was born as a girl. Um, I mean I’ve got a girl’s body. But- I’m really a boy inside. Does that make sense?” _

_Todoroki looked more confused, if that was possible. His eyebrows were drawn together. “I... But... your voice is deep? And you don’t look like a girl...”_

_Izuku sighed, sniffling. He pulled up his shirt to reveal his binder. Todoroki turned pink. _

_“This is a binder. It flattens my chest. And I take testosterone... it lowers my voice. Among doing other things.” He explained. His speech was wobbly._

_Todoroki was silent for a moment. _

_Izuku hid his face again, terrified. This was not a good idea._

_Then Todoroki awkwardly pulled Izuku into a stiff hug. Izuku was so surprised he stopped crying._

Todoroki didn’t say much else, in typical Todoroki fashion, but nothing changed between the two of them. Much to Izuku’s relief, there was none of the anticipated awkwardness he had been expecting. 

A week later, he got a box full of expensive binders, and a note written with extremely neat handwriting, reading: _Midoryia, I did some research. I hope these are your size. -Todoroki. _

They certainly fit him better than the two well-worn ones his mother had bought for him a year ago. 

He sat up and stared out the window, sighing. He felt a little guilty for thinking about this right now- Kacchan was missing! Yet, he had not wanted to come out. It wasn’t his choice.

A small part of him was urging him to go and save Kacchan. But he didn’t know where Kacchan was, and even if he did, what would he do? How would he fight the League? 

You’d have to be incredibly stupid-or incredibly determined- to go out and randomly search for Katsuki. 

************************************ 

Kirishima was going out in search for Bakugo. 

Hanta knew this, because he was climbing out his window. 

“I can see you, you know. You can get off the window now.” Hanta said, peering out. Kirishima’s face was red with effort, and he was wearing a ridiculously large scarf. 

“I can’t. I miscalculated- it’s- harder- than- _ugh_\- it looks! Also, how did you get- _hrmph-_ in my room!” He panted. 

Hanta looked back to his door. “It’s unlocked?” 

Kirishima almost slipped, but Hanta grabbed his hand. He managed to pull the boy back into his room. 

He watched Kirishima catch his breath. Hanta understood what he was feeling- Hanta felt it too. Bakugo was probably under great distress right now, in danger or not, and there was a white panic settling across his mind, even worse than when he had been kidnapped himself. 

But still.

“Kirishima-kun, are you kidding me? Do you not realize that going after Bakugo alone is the literally _dumbest idea ever?_” He said, throwing up his hands to illustrate the ridiculousness of it all. 

Kirishima turned to him. “I’m not going to stand by like I did last time. I have to!” 

Hanta studied his form- clad in jackets and jeans, hands balled in fists.

“Kirishima-“

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to finish his sentence, as Kirishima had started a dash towards his window. 

“_WAIT_-“ He gasped. What was he _doing?! _

Kirishima hardened as he flew out the window, into the night. Dear god. 

Hanta ran to see if he had broken his skull open. His room was on the second floor- not crazy high, but not a height you want to fall recklessly from. 

He had miraculously landed feet-first in the snow. Hanta let out a breath of relief.

He looked down at Kirishima, who was dusting off his pants, and then at the drop. 

Oh, fuck it. 

Hanta shot tape to wrap around the legs of the bed, and repelled himself down the building. 

Kirishima grinned and clapped their hands together. “You’re coming with?” 

“Can’t wait.” He grumbled.

************************************ 

Katsuki was tired of life screwing him over, and currently he was having his third panic attack of the day. 

He had figured out a few things; first, he was not blindfolded; for some reason, the league had shoved him in a cabinet, and light was barely trickling though the cracks. 

Second, he was cold. So cold, in fact, that under normal circumstances he would not be able to sweat. Fortunately for him, he was having a panic attack, which, fucking hell, sure stimulated those glands! 

Third, the bitch was there. He could hear her annoying voice from where he was. The other voices there were all indistinguishable from each other in his panicked haze. 

Katsuki held his shaking hands up to the meager light, studying his handcuffs. They were metal. The keyholes were small and modern. 

Someone sweared from the room outside, and Katsuki craned his neck to press his eye to the crack. 

“Mag, you said you knew how to set this shit up!” 

There’s a pause. 

“I said I could figure it out! When’s your guy getting here? I might be able to set up the cameras, but I’m no hacker.”

Katsuki found a sweet spot; he could see a red haired villain- Mag?- holding something, trying to angle it right. A laptop on a table. 

“In a couple of minutes. I’ll blow his head off after this job if he’s not here by then.” 

Shigaraki. 

Katsuki tried to maneuver himself to the side, but the cabinet was too long, catching his shoulder.

“What are we going to do with the kid when we’re done? Ransom him? Kill him? Don’t tell me you haven’t planned that part yet, Shigaraki.” 

His ears perked up. Done with what? He didn’t recognize this voice. Last time he was kidnapped, everything was a blur. It happened so fast, and with such intensity- and it’s not as if he wanted to fucking remember it. 

“We’re going to kill him. More impact, right?”

That one had been Toga. It sent a chill down his spine. 

“No! We’re going to make a trade- his life for All Might’s. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.” 

“Aw...” 

Katsuki gritted his teeth. He was having trouble controlling his breathing- it gotstuck in his throat, sapping his energy. If he can’t get out before then, he’s fucking killing himself. He’s not letting them murder All Might. 

He might have already done that himself. 

************************************ 

Kirishima jumped the fence with far more agility than he should have had. 

“Have you... done this before?” Hanta asked, shooting his tape to a nearby tree. 

“Sometimes I get hungry in the middle of the night. Specifically for McDonalds.” He answered, voice lowered like there was someone around to hear them. 

Hanta maneuvered over the fence, all while going through Aizawa’s lessons on staying calm in a stressful situation. So far, it wasn’t working. He could feel his hands shaking- _this is a bad idea, such a bad idea_, he thought. And then, _I could die._

Kirishima could die. 

Bakugo could die. 

It was something Kirishima was probably thinking too- something all the 1-A kids had probably thought, actually. 

He swallowed his panic. 

They ran through the woods to a small road.

“We should go to the closest city. Maybe the villains will be ripping down buildings or something.” Kirishima said.

Hanta knew even _finding_ Bakugo would be a long shot, but he also knew Kirishima would feel better knowing he could.

They took a bus, and wandered the streets.

At about the sixth building, Kirishima came to an abrupt stop. Hanta walked to face him.

“What is it?”

Kirishima put his head in his hands. “What am I doing here? I can’t... we-“ 

His hair was painted a dull orange from the street lights. Hanta sighed, shakily, and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Kirishima-kun, it’s okay.” He didn’t know what else to do. 

He shook his head, face still down. “No, no...”

He was definitely crying now. Hanta though he was too. 

Kirishima pressed his back to a brick wall of a coffee shop. He slid down it and sobbed. 

Hanta sat next to him. “Kirishima-kun, we’re doing the best we can. It will be okay.” 

Kirishima didn’t answer him, but he pulled his face from his hands and stared at the ground. 

Hanta hugged him, wrapping an arm around his neck. 

They sat there for a minute. 

The shop across from them displayed the news on it, several large-screen televisions showing different channels. 

Suddenly, the screen changed. It showed a wooden wall with criss-crossing supports shooting up it. 

Standing in front of the wall was Shigaraki.

Hanta shot up. “Look!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, and he stood. They dashed across the road to see. It was lagging a little, almost like the connection was weak. 

There were no speakers, and anyway, it was hard to tell if he was speaking because there was a hand on his face.

Something about the room looked incredibly familiar. Hanta racked his brain for where it was. 

“Come on,” Kirishima said, urgent. “The coffee shop has WiFi. Let’s look up the news stream so we can hear him!” 

They spent a few frantic minutes trying to find the right channel, and when they did, Shigaraki’s sandpaper voice crackled through the tinny speakers on Hanta’s old phone. 

“-So, you’re wondering... Shikaraki, what is a member of the League doing hijacking my favorite news channel? Well, we’ve kidnapped a U.A. student. Again! Your precious school of heroes has yet again failed its children! They’re weak. And who have we kidnapped?” 

Hanta met Kirishima’s horrified look. 

“Bakugo Katsuki! Again!” 

“I’m texting this stream to Nezu.” Kirishima said. His voice sounded broken. 

Hanta nodded. “They’ve kidnapped him to cause even more public unrest with U.A. and All Might... and the same student? It shows that they didn’t bring up security... this isn’t good. This is terrible.” 

“-what will it take to get your explosive student back? Well, an eye for an eye, as they say... All Might’s life for Bakugo’s. And that’s that. No negotiations!” 

Kirishima gasped. “Oh, fuck.” 

Hanta’s head spun. And then he remembered where he had seen the room before. 

“Kirishima-kun, I know where Bakugo-kun is!” 

************************************ 

Katsuki was yanked out of the cabinet by a weirdo with a burned throat. 

He bore his teeth and then remembered he couldn’t, because he was gagged. 

They were not going to fucking trade him for all might. They weren’t. He wouldn’t let them. 

He struggled and tried to throw himself at the villain, but he was forced into a chair, then chained to it, in front of that goddamn camera.

Katsuki glared at the camera.

“We’re obviously not going to give away our location... so I’ll be waiting at Akaie Square. Remember, if you hurt me, we hurt him.” Shigaraki said, snaking back and forth across the camera’s view. 

Damn it, if he knew Morse code he could communicate. Not that he knew where he was... 

bet Izuku knew, the nerd. Katsuki hoped that Izuku wouldn’t go after him again... he was starting to feel like Princess Peach getting kidnapped by Bowser every other Wednesday. 

His head was swimming, and little black dots clouded his vision. 

Katsuki spotted a window. It was still dark. 

What could he do? 

************************************ 

_“You know where he is?!” _

Kirishima had a iron grip on Hanta’s arm as they both stared at Hanta’s phone. 

“Yeah. It’s on Sukoshi Street... let me send it to you.” Hanta’s voice shook. 

_“How do you know where he is? Are you in your room? You’re not-“ _

“Nezu-san, I’m in my dorm, don’t worry a bit! I recognized the room they were in. It’s an abandoned warehouse I used to train in as a kid. It’s near my house. Please go rescue Bakugo-kun now!” 

Kirishima, who was being as quiet as possible, exchanged a nervous look with Hanta. The barista was glancing their way suspiciously. 

“Thank you Sero-San. We’ll get on it.” 

The call ended. 

The boys stood stock-still for a moment. 

Then they scrambled out the door. 

“Okay, now all we need to do is hope nobody comes looking for us.” Hanta wheezed.

Kirishima was staring into nothing. “Yeah.” 

Hanta furrowed his brow. “Hey, you’re not thinking of going after him yourself, are you? Because I WILL fight you to stop you. And you don’t want that.” 

Kirishima shook his head. “No, no. I’m just... thinking of all the ways this could go wrong.” 

It started to rain. 

************************************ 

Shigaraki had left, and Katsuki was freaking out. Even more, if that was possible. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about what his mom would say. That is, if he survived. A cynical part of him said, _I hope I don’t. _

Was he just gonna stand here? Gonna let these weak-ass villains win? 

Hell no. 

Was he gonna let Izuku beat him? Rise to the top? 

Hell fucking no, thank you very much. 

His hands were still in front of him, and the chains attached to his cuffs were rusty. Bingo. 

He pressed his palms together and willed himself to sweat more. It was a little bit of a party trick, something he had learned from years of honing his quirk. 

It built up. He stealthily drew his hands over the chains, painting his sweat across them.

He set it off. The chains didn’t snap. Shit. 

Burnface flew towards him and shoved him to the ground, chair and all. 

“Bad idea, kid.” He growled. Katsuki tried to headbutt him, to no avail. His blood pounded in his ears as struggled. 

Burnface grabbed his hands. “Listen up, herospawn. Try that again and I’ll cut your hands off. Got it?” 

Katsuki swallowed. He nodded. 

His chair was righted. 

Katsuki put his head in his lap, because he didn’t want to cry on television. 

Several moments passed, before a gunshot sounded through the building, and the sound of shattering glass.

He shot his head up just in time to see Snipe jump through the broken window and shoot Burnface in the leg. 

Somebody lifted his chair and then there was blackness. He had the sensation of moving, and then he was in a parking lot. 

Cementoss stood in front of him. “Bakugo-san, do not be afraid. I’m going to take you to your parents’ house.” 

He had been saved.

Relief settled around him, though it was still awkward. And god, he didn’t want to go to his parents. He wanted to go home. Real home, at the dorms. 

Cementoss took the gag out of his mouth and smashed the chains off the chair. Katsuki stood up and shook off his arms.

“We’ll get these cuffs off when we get you to a safer location.” He said. “Are you hurt?” 

Katsuki sighed. “No. How the fuck’d you find me?” Cementoss led him to a car, courteously ignoring his language. 

“Your classmate Sero-san recognized the background of the warehouse. I don’t know how, but that’s what I was told.” 

Sero had saved him. He looked back to the warehouse in the distance. “So... All Might’s fine, then.”

“Yes, and the other pros are fleeing in another direction, to throw the villains off your path.” 

Katsuki nodded. Cementoss started the car and they drove in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be prepared for next chapter where the boys actually interact!!! GROUNDBREAKING  
(Possibly the last?)
> 
> IM TIRED.
> 
> if nothing makes sense in this chapter I completely understand. please hold out until next chapter bc it’ll be softe......


	6. a false dilemma, one and the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally the end!!!
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this. The chapter title is from the actual paradox of the immovable force vs. unstoppable object.
> 
> I didn’t even tag Midoryia as trans because I’ve thought of him as trans for so long that I forgot.
> 
> Reasons why I headcannon him as trans:
> 
> 1 he is STRONG.
> 
> 2 he is DETERMINED
> 
> 3 he’s a HANDSOME BOY.
> 
> and since all trans dudes are strong, handsome and determined, I figured it only made sense... :)
> 
> also is it just me or is my writing getting worse? idk I’ve been staring at this chapter for so long I can’t even tell what’s good or not.

Katsuki stared at his house.

Yellow light shone through the windows; the walls were a calming shade, and a lemon tree swayed in the wind beside it.

By all accounts, it should have been a welcoming sight.

It was not.

“Come, your parents will be relived.” Cementoss beckoned him to the door.

Katsuki grit his teeth and ripped the door open. His eyes hurt from the sudden change in brightness.

“Katsuki!” His mom ran to him immediately, wrapping him in a hug. “How did you get kidnapped again? Don’t you have any sense?”

He swallowed. It was never different, with her.

He pushed out of her arms. “I’m fucking fine, thanks for asking. If you want to know what happened, you can ask him.” He jabbed his thumb behind him at Cementoss.

She squared her arms. “Don’t walk away from me, Katsuki! We’re not done talking!”

His dad looked like he was going to say something. Katsuki paused to see if he would.

He fucking didn’t.

Something settled on his chest. He gripped the handrail of the stairs. There was dust there, beneath his fingers.

“What’s there to talk about?! You’re just going to be angry at me for _getting kidnapped_ like last time! Just leave me alone for once in my goddamn life!” Katsuki screamed, spinning around and storming up the stairs.

He didn’t care if Cementoss saw.

He ignited his sweat, burning off the dust. He slammed his door and threw himself on his bed.

His pillow was cold. He looked around his empty bedroom, filled with soft amber light.

There was something lonesome about it.

His old school books sat in a neat pile on his desk; his bed had been made, his bookcase long untouched.

Katsuki remembered the days when he would read books without end, devouring every word, sticking to the upside-down worlds inside the pages. The rules were always different in them, filled with adventure and excitement.

He remembered himself, maybe ten, paging through a book with a plucky, red-kneed protagonist. He had scoffed when he was finished, because it seemed awfully unrealistic, a boy with a friend who would come over to his house every day, and who knew everything about him- and was inseparable from him always.

Katsuki didn’t have that, then.

But he did now.

He scrawled an angry note, bold and messy.

(WENT TO THE DORMS. FUCK THIS.)

He stuck it on his bed, and shoved his window open.

Out he flew, into the starry night.

************************************

Katsuki took the bus to U.A..

He didn’t plan very well, in terms of absolutely everything.

He was tired, first of all. And freezing.

The villains didn’t supply him with a coat, and if they had, it would probably be ugly as hell, anyway.

Katsuki was slogging through the snow towards the dorm, setting off little explosions in his palms to keep warm.

He didn’t want to think about his mom. He didn’t want to think about the villains, or how he still felt a haze of panic.

_(weak)_

_(you are weak, Bakugo Katsuki)_

He didn’t want to cry again.

Inside, he walked as quickly as possible to his room so he could pull of his wet socks. Oh wow, he was colder than he thought.

He grabbed clean clothes and took the warmest shower he could, the water practically burning his skin.

He found himself standing outside Kirishima’s door. He gripped at his jacket, the one Mina had given him, the one he had rolled his eyes at and shoved to the back of his closet.

_(weak)_

_(can’t even open a door)_

Katsuki sharply sucked in a breath through his nose.

He knocked.

It seemed less than a second before it was open. Kirishima stared at him for a moment, gaping.

Katsuki’s stomach filled with butterflies.

Kirishima tackled him into a hug, and Katsuki stumbled to keep upright. A wave of warmth washed over him.

He felt safe.

“Katsuki.” Kirishima half-whispered into his shoulder. Thunder went through his chest.

He didn’t let go. “I’m so, so glad you’re safe. I...” He tightened his grip, clutching Katsuki’s jacket between his fingers.

Something was rising in his lungs. He didn’t ever want to let go, and some old, ugly part of him sneered at the softness behind the feeling.

“You’re here. You’re safe.” Kirishima mumbled.

He was now. He swallowed and thought, thought back to the same question he always had... _what do I want?_ Which he always answered by saying _victory. First place, excellence._

Now, he could settle for this.

This softness, this safe... feeling, this warmth.

He could stay here, comfortable and _right_.

Then Kirishima pulled away and nervousness crashed back into the world. Just them, alone, in the corridor.

And then it REALLY hit him, I mean for maybe the first time. It was just them two. No one else, and Kirishima was still there, looking relived and bright. He was looking that way for him. Katsuki.

Kirishima was his best friend. _On purpose._

Holy _shit._

Kirishima stepped forward again, hands drifting over Katsuki’s skin, before settling to grab his chin, gently tugging it from left to right.

“Are you hurt?” Kirishima asked, and it came out dulcet and low. Worry was painted in his eyes, blood-red in the dark.

He tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies clinging to his throat. “No.”

Something blossomed there, and maybe it was the blood rushing to his face, but maybe it was cracks spreading through his wall.

It was crumbling.

“Fuck.” He blurted, because they were so close, too close, his face radiant and sleep-softened and dangerous.

So close. 

Why not? 

_(because you could never have him) _

_(pull away, pull away, before you detonate something you can’t fix) _

He swallowed, because he was so terribly, wonderfully close- 

Without realizing it, his hands had migrated to hold his wrists, and he was sweating, but Kirishima didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re here.” Kirishima whispered again, mostly to himself. He looked radiant and golden. He grinned, his dimples flashing like sunspots. 

There were about a million alarms going off in Katsuki’s head, ones he had set for himself, long past, which he finally, decisively ignored. 

He surged forward, buoyant from the lightning shooting through his veins. 

Oh _shit_, he was kissing Kirishima. 

And, _holy fuck_, Kirishima was kissing him _back_. 

It was quite possible that his heart had stopped, because all he could hear was a slow breath from the other boy, and then a “_Mmn_.” Their lips slid together. 

Katsuki was on _fire. _

He had calculated wrong, so Kirishima was pressed against the doorframe.

He pushed his fingers into still half-dyed hair, tipped his head to the side- Katsuki felt like an actual nuke had gone off, like his chains were snapping, like the butterflies in his chest had decided to riot- all his breath all was gone, yet he pushed harder, like Kirishima himself was oxygen. 

His teeth caught on Katsuki’s lip, and he instinctively pulled away. 

Kirishima looked starstruck, his eyes wide. He was staring ahead like he had just seen a star go supernova. 

“You kissed me.” He whispered, disbelief written on the lines of his forehead. 

Katsuki grunted, only partly aware that his legs felt like Play-Dough. “Yeah.” 

“Did you mean to do that?” He squeaked.

Katsuki felt like he was going to throw up. 

“Of course I meant to do it, dumbass! I’ve been in love with you since you got all in my fucking face all the time about everything!” He spat. 

There was a sudden quiet. 

Katsuki’s stomach fell to his feet when he realized what he said. His hands were shaking, and were so goddamn sweaty, so he shoved them into his armpits and took a step back. He knew it wasn’t from the fucking cold. 

Kirishima hasn’t moved, but his face had turned an alarming shade of red. He blinked, and his eyes went glassy. “You love me?” 

Katsuki sneered. 

“Nooo, wait, I’m kind of, I’m sort of pretty sure, I mean, ugh,” Kirishima scrambled, looking every direction except Katsuki’s face. 

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU AS WELL!”

Katsuki’s heart flipped. An unfamiliar fuzzy feeling spread through him. 

He took a deep breath. “Yeah. I think. You’re....” 

Kirishima was clearly struggling to get the words out. He looked strained.

“Really beautiful and intense and smart and cool! Okay! All right! I just said that out. Loud! Woo!” 

Katsuki stepped forwards, eyes on his mouth. 

Kirishima trailed off. 

Katsuki halfway closed his eyes and placed his hands on Kirishima’s face. 

This time, Katsuki smiled into the kiss. He pulled Kirishima against him, who looked giddy.

There was a rhythm to it, kissing. It felt astronomically better than he thought it would be, something new, heavy, and insistent settling in his stomach. Every shift in movement sent sparks through his skin... he couldn’t believe it, that Kirishima wanted him. 

And yet here he was, mouth warm and occupied. Katsuki made a daring move and bit down on his lower lip. 

It felt like biting a rock. 

Katsuki yanked his head back in surprise. “What the fuck.” 

Kirishima looked a mess, beet red and ruffled. His face had hardened.

Katsuki snickered. Kirishima looked apologetic. 

They both burst out laughing.

“Fucking, you’re _ridiculous_, Eijiro-“ 

Kirishima reddened. 

“You called me by my name.” He said, and that soft look was back again.

Katsuki shrugged. “You called me by mine.” 

Kirishima smiled, and was probably going to lean in again, when footsteps echoed out from the corridor.

They turned, both redder than Katsuki would have liked. He felt a bit like a child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

Kaminari stood there, in Gudetama pajamas. He grinned. “Bakugo-kun!!! Oh my god, you’re safe!” 

He ran over and bounced up and down for a second. “Hell yeah! Let’s wake up everyone else, come on!” He dashed away.

“Wait, I don’t-“ Katsuki called. Kaminari was long gone.

“Bitch’s gone. Okay.” He grumbled, turning back to Kirishima. 

Kirishima smiled and took his hand. Katsuki tried to ignore his heart turning molten.

His thumb was taking the same path that it had when he had bleached Kirishima’s hair. 

“Let’s go. I’m sure they’re eager to see you.” He said.

They went to the common room, and Kaminari came back with the squad.

“I texted the 1-A group chat in case they’re up! But I had to get these guys out here... they weren’t sleeping.” He explained, plopping down on the couch. 

Mina ran to hug him, and for once, Katsuki let her. Sero did too, actually. Katsuki stood rather stiffly, but still felt good. 

“How did you get here? I figured they would bring you right to your parents...” Mina mumbled.

“Didn’t want to stick around. Don’t like the hag’s attitude.” He answered bluntly. 

Kirishima gave him a understanding look. He was the one that knew the most about Katsuki’s home situation. (Besides Izuku) 

Sero let go. “So they don’t know you came back?”

He shrugged. “I left a note. It’s fine.” It dawned on him that his voice sounded like sand being run through a wood chipper. 

Mina smiled big. “You sound tired. Maybe you should get some sleep.”

He paused. 

He didn’t want to be alone.

Besides, there was something so comforting about the light streaming in through the windows, leaving striped shadows on the floor. They spread out over Kaminari’s hair and spilled over the couch, familiar and calm. 

He sat down. “Not yet.” 

Kirishima sat next to him and squeezed his hand. 

Suddenly, Izuku dashed into the room.

“For once, I’m glad I have insomnia! Kacchan, you’re back!” He shouted, gleefully. 

Katsuki watched him excitedly make his way to the couches. Izuku hugged him too. And of course Izuku was happy to see him... it was in his nature. The boy beamed, the freckles on his cheeks dancing up with it. 

Katsuki wasn’t guilty, anymore, or at least it wasn’t lying on the surface; if he thought about the bullying, his stomach sank, but for now, he could enjoy Izuku’s company without his own lungs eating his chest alive, or a knife twisting in his ribs.

“Yeah.” He muttered gruffly. He caught Kirishima’s- Eijiro’s- surprise out of the corner of his eye, eyebrows drawn up, like he was saying _are you friends now? when did this happen? _And Katsuki thought to himself, _I didn’t think it ever would, but it did_. 

And thank God, or Jesus, or the fucking Virgin Mary or whatever, because something within him felt like he and Izuku were two sides of the same coin; the leaders of a new generation of heroes. Or maybe that was just him being a pretentious asshole.

And besides that, he couldn’t be happier to have genuine friends. 

The people he knew in middle school didn’t care about him- they were only chasing the power that came along with him, gunpowder and dynamite, reputation and popularity. 

Katsuki waited for Izuku to sit down before straightening in his seat and looking around at everyone. He was buzzing with adrenaline, all the sudden, and he took a sharp breath. 

“Listen, I’m gonna say this ‘cause I’m not a fucking pussy, okay?” He stood up. 

Everyone stared. He sweated. 

“I... really care about you shitheads. Don’t be gettin’ big heads about it, though.”

He stood there. Swallowed. Sat down. 

“Aww! Blasty!” Mina squealed.

“That was so heartfelt! Give me another hug, come here-“ Kaminari opened his arms and leaned over the coffee table.

“Fuck off!” Katsuki snarled, shoving his arms away. Kaminari responded by pushing his arms back and trying again.

They ended up tussling on the couch. Kirishima was laughing and cheering Kaminari on. 

“Bakugooooo.....” groaned Kaminari from where Katsuki had pinned him.

“S’ what you deserve.” He grunted. 

Caught off guard, Katsuki was thrown backward by Sero hugging him this time.

Curses.

“Come on, guys, if you give Bakugo-kun too much love at once, he might get all mushy and admit he LIKES hugs.” Mina chirped. 

Katsuki admitted defeat, lying under a jumble of limbs. And then he realized, warmth unfolding in his chest in tandem with the actual body heat of his friends, that no one was afraid to hug him anymore. 

Nobody cared that he could explode. 

Nobody cared that he was _Katsuki_. 

There was a loud sniff. Everybody looked up. 

Izuku was crying, of course he was. The damn nerd joined the pile. His bushy hair tickled Katsuki’s nose. 

“I love you guys...” He babbled, probably getting snot all over the couch. 

Katsuki had always been a bit touch-starved, so he was currently melting where he lay. Eijiro got closer, best he could, leaning over his face and kissing Katsuki’s forehead.

He had so many feelings swirling around in his gut, like a fuckin’ sniveling teenager was expected to have. He felt ridiculous. 

He felt happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Really need to get better at writing kissing LOL. 
> 
> Ty all for reading and sticking with me! Another fic is already in the works, and it’s momojiro. If any of u are interested,,.. stick around babes.
> 
> Ily all... y’all are epic.....
> 
> if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes pls point them out to me that crap bothers me sm. THANK U AGAIN!!!

**Author's Note:**

> ....who knows when I shall write the next chapter...  
certainly not I............
> 
> stay tuned my kissers and frickers


End file.
